I Am Stevie
by bootsontheground
Summary: When Stevie is attacked by someone she trusts, she has to make a decision: tell or keep her mouth shut? As Stevie grapples with revealing her abuser's identity, while struggling to reconcile her trust and love for them, and trying to somehow keep herself alive and sane amongst it all, her loved ones can only watch as she delves deeper and deeper into the rabbit hole. (on Hiatus)
1. Chapter 1

A/N: **TRIGGER WARNING** for reference to sexual assault/rape.

I know I haven't posted in awhile and I'm sorry about that. I am open to giving this story up for adoption, so if you'd like it I will look at your other stories/ask you where you want to take it, and if I like your ideas or I just think you're just plainly a better writer than me, you can have this story. -boots

Disclaimer: I don't own Madam Secretary.

…

"Mom."

Elizabeth blinked her eyes open, suppressing a yawn as she pressed down her ever-present exhaustion in favor of her daughter. Stevie was standing in the doorway, feet bare and arms crossed, one hand rubbing her own shoulder in a way that screamed self-comfort. It had been a while since she had seen her oldest look like the baby she had raised. But here, standing before her, was the teary eyes and small voice of the little girl who didn't want to go to school because her teacher yelled at her and called her names. Just remembering the man that had made her little girl feel so small, those many years ago, made Elizabeth's blood boil.

"Mom?" Stevie called out again, louder and more desperate this time.

That's when Elizabeth noticed her clothes. Her little girl's skirt had a long rip down one side and the stockings she had left the house with were gone. The arms crossed across her chest were holding together her light tea pink blouse… Elizabeth gasped. All the buttons on the blouse were gone, threads poking out. "Stevie?!"

"Mom." She whispered it this time, stumbling forward.

Elizabeth pushed herself off the couch, hurrying forward, arms outstretched. "What happened? Are you alright? Are you hurt?"

Stevie just shook her head. "I… I… Mommy." The word came out smothered in a sob.

"Mom, when's-"

Elizabeth looked up to see her youngest, frozen on the last step of the stairs. Jason looked puzzled almost, and if it was any other moment, Elizabeth could have laughed at how adorable her baby boy looked right now, but this moment made the look on his face another blow to her stomach.

"Stevie?" He called out.

Elizabeth looked at the barely standing girl in front of her, watching as she flinched at the deepening voice of her little brother.

"Don't!" She gasped out. "Don't say my name!"

Jason looked to his mother. "Mom?" He said, in a whisper.

"Sweetie, I need you to go upstairs. Call your father for me okay." She looked back down at her daughter, eyes squeezed shut, and spoke softly. "Stevie, honey. We need to go to the hospital; make sure you're not… hurt." Elizabeth bit back the tears welling up. Of course, she was hurt. It was written all over her.

"It hurts. Mom, it hurts." Stevie bit out.

"Mom?" Jason called gently from the top of the stairs. "Dad's outside." The sound of a key jangling in the front door sparked something in Elizabeth. She quickly took the soft blanket from the couch and gently wrapped it around her twenty year old. Stevie shrunk against her at the sound of Henry shuffling through the doorway.

"Elizabeth! Jason called is every-" He paused in the kitchen, staring at his eldest sobbing in fright against his wife.

"Henry." Elizabeth breathed out.

"Stevie, what-"

"Don't!" She cried out. "Don't say my name please!"

Henry stepped back, pain evident on his face.

Elizabeth spoke softly. "Henry. Henry we need to go to the hospital. You need to tell the detail to get ready. And we need a woman driver." No response. "Henry," she said louder, "you need to go tell the detail we need to go now."

He nodded. "Yeah, okay."

…


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: **TRIGGER WARNING** for description and reference to sexual assault/rape.

I wasn't going to post anymore but you all seemed to really like this story. I don't have many ideas on where to take it, so if anyone has any- please share! Sorry if there are any errors or it isn't good. I kind of wrote it as I went, in two hours, and with no inspiration. -boots

Disclaimer: I don't own Madam Secretary.

…

Allison was in bed when Mom called. She told her to sit down, so Allison sat up. She told Allison that after she told her she wanted her to wait there for a few minutes before rushing to the hospital. The hospital. Allison felt like her chest was going to explode. Was Dad okay? Did Mom have another panic attack? No, she wouldn't call herself then. Oh my God was it Jason? Was he hurt? She told him not to try vaping, and now with all this in the news- God that kid was stupid sometimes, how could he do this Mom and Dad!

"Stevie was attacked tonight."

Stevie? "Attacked?"

"She was raped."

Rape? But Stevie… how could Stevie be raped?

"I'm sending a car to get you, don't go anywhere by yourself. Okay, noodle?"

"But Mom, Stevie?"

"Just drink some water and pack a few things okay. You're probably gonna want to stay a few nights at home. I'll see you in a few… I love you, noodle."

* * *

A few weeks ago, Allison went to her first real college party. There was alcohol and some people doing weed. No one was pressuring her to take any so she was fine. But after a while the music was giving her a headache, and in the heat of September, all those people stuffed together was getting very uncomfortable.

"Hey, you look a little queasy! First party?!" Her date to the party was Jonathon. They had been friends since she first got to DC so she knew he didn't mean it as anything but platonic. He had been obsessed with Julia Pue since before she knew him; he frequently proclaimed he would wait until she was ready for him.

"I'm more of Netflix binge-party type person!"

He grinned, showing off the gap in his teeth. He was also charmingly confident when he wanted to be. Jonathan waved to someone in the distance and then grabbed her hand, pulling her toward the kitchen.

"Where are we going?" She asked.

"Relax, Allie. We're gonna party somewhere quieter, how about the library?"

She grinned back at him. "You know me so well."

They began the slow walk to the university library.

"If I were not betrothed to my dear Julie Pue, I would most definitely hit that." He nodded at a girl drunkenly twerking on a tree. "Hey, Allie, let's see if she wants to twerk on something hot-blooded."

"What, no, that's not funny." She shoved him in the shoulder. "We should take her to her dorm."

"Dude, no. I'm horny not volunteery."

"Yeah, well you have to make up for that nasty comment, so."

"Says who?" He ribbed.

"The universe and all of its pissed off energy, that's who."

Jonathan sighed. "Fine."

They diverted from the pathway and began to walk toward the girl who was in the middle of the field. In the distance they could see a boy approaching her. He seemed to be walking straight, and leaned in to kiss the girl.

"Oh goodie, boyfriend is here. Let's go."

"Wait…" Allison watched as the guy's hands pulled down the girl's panties, and as soon as they started for his own zipper, she jumped and grabbed Jonathan's arm.

"Ow! Wow, I can't believe they're doing it right there."

"She's drunk. He's obviously not; this is wrong."

"Allie, relax. She's into it."

Allison swallowed. Should she stop them, make a fool of herself? Maybe that was her boyfriend and they did it on a regular basis. But she didn't know that. She couldn't let this happen!

"All stop!" Jonathan hissed. But she kept running toward the couple.

By the time she reached the tree, he was on top of her moaning with each thrust. Before she could second guess herself again, Allison shoved him off of the girl. Unsure what to do next when he looked up at her in shock, she watched as his eyes went wide and he got up and run, pulling up his pants as he went.

Allison rushed to the girl. "Are you okay? Can you hear me?"

The girl's pants were pulled down and her shirt ripped open. Allison shouted for Jonathan to give her his jacket. Silence. She looked up; Jonathan hadn't come with her. He was still standing by the pathway, peering into the darkness with annoyance painting his face.

The girl's name was Alice. The police told Allison that she had been raped before, and that she sent a message of thanks that at least someone stopped it this time.

Jonathan and her never really talked about that night.

* * *

Stevie was asleep when Allison arrived at the hospital. She looked clean and normal, except for the bandage on her right wrist and the thick bruises on her right. She reached to hold her bruised hand but when a whispered gasp of "careful!" rose from the others, she turned it carefully until she could see them. They were little splits in the skin. She had seen them on her ex-boyfriend knuckles after he would fight whatever person he had beef* with that day. But these weren't on just her knuckles, they were peppered along the back of her Stevie's hand and along her fingers.

"Her hand?"

A pause.

"She said he hit it against the edge of the table a lot." Jason finally whispered.

Dad abruptly stood.

"Henry?"

"Do you want some water, Elizabeth? Does anyone want any water? Anything? It's getting late. Starving isn't going to help-" He caught himself. "It isn't going to help her any."

He looked so desperate that Mom told him to get them all some sandwiches for later.

Allison held Stevie's hand until Dad came back, wondering the entire time who the 'he' was that hit her hands on a table.

…

[*having beef with someone is a slang term for not getting along with/ holding animosity towards someone]


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: __**TRIGGER WARNING** for reference to sexual assault/rape.

Took a while but here it is. I am sincerely asking for suggestions on where to take this. I am out of ideas. Besides knowing who did it, I have nothing in regards to the plot of the story. So, the next chapter may take a while. -boots

Disclaimer: I don't own Madam Secretary.

…

It was dark outside by the time the policemen came. The first officer was young and spoke gently to Stevie, not pushing her silence, while the other was middle-aged and stared at Stevie's sealed lips disagreeably.

"Ma'am?" The older officer asked. "Would you like to file a report? It's the only way we can investigate the alleged crime."

Elizabeth's eyes narrowed.

"Alleged?!" Jason shouted. "What's that supposed to mean? Aren't you supposed to on our side!"

"It's ok." Stevie finally spoke. "It doesn't matter."

The look on her eldest's face told Elizabeth everything. "Baby, don't-"

"I'm not filing a report."

"What?" Alison squeaked. Could Stevie do that?

"Wait, honey, maybe" Henry started.

Stevie slammed her hands down on the bed rails, wincing as she did. "It's my decision!" Her voice quivered. "Only my say matters!"

Silence. Jason and Alison looked to Elizabeth.

But it was Henry that spoke first. "Stevie's right. It's her decision."

"So," the older officer huffed out, "you would not like to file a report?"

Elizabeth turned to Stevie. "Are you absolutely sure?"

"…sure enough."

"Okay then." The Secretary of State turned to the officers. "We won't be needing your assistance."

The older officer took this as a sign to skedaddle, but his younger partner paused.

He turned to Stevie. "You know, even if you don't want to file a report right now. You can still have a kit done, just in case." With that he left the room.

Right as the officer left, a nurse walked in, having heard the conversation as a he was coming into the room.

"I would recommend, Miss McCord, that you have a rape kit done." The short, tired looking man glanced at the four other people in the room. "Perhaps you would like some more privacy in making these decisions, Miss McCord?"

Stevie remained quiet, staring into her lap. Elizabeth glared at the nurse. She knew he was just doing his job, but her baby was extremely vulnerable right now and she needed her.

"The sooner you get it done, the better. I don't want to seem pushy, but evidence deteriorates very quickly."

This time Henry glared at the nurse. "Give her a moment. She's been through a lot today."

Jason stared queasily at the floor. Alison quietly sat down beside him and held his hand.

"Can I have some time to think about it?"

"Yes." Elizabeth said quickly.

The nurse pursed his lips.

Stevie covered her face with her hands. "I don't know! I can't think!" She cried out.

"Stevie! Stevie." Elizabeth pried her hands from her face and bent down to look into her eyes. "You need to sleep." She glared at the nurse. "Stevie is going to sleep for a few hours at least, and then she will make a decision."

"I don't know if-"

"It's just a nap." Henry said softly. "It's your job to help her, and this will help her."

The nurse relented. "Fine, but just please keep in mind that the quicker the decision-"

"We get it!" Alison shouted.

Henry looked at his wife, and then the kids. She nodded.

"Okay Stevie, honey. It's time for sleep." And just like when Stevie was a child, Elizabeth tucked her in, soothing her to sleep with soft caresses of her hair. Slowly and ever so slowly, the girl fell into a fitful sleep, and Elizabeth turned to her other children, beckoning them into the hallway with Henry.

"Okay guys, it's almost 10 o'clock."

"Mom, no!" The teens protested.

"Stop." Henry said sternly. "I get that you want to be with Stevie. But, one, she is sleeping right now. Two, you are of no help to her if you are grumpy and tired. Three, your mother and I said so."

With that Jason and Alison quietly followed their mother to the car, still holding hands.

…

Stevie begins crying mid-way through her first hour of sleep. Afraid to wake her when Elizabeth or Alison are not here to comfort her, Henry paces in panic before watching her tears slowly stop and the girl curl into herself with a whimper. He reached out his hand, desperate to offer his daughter some comfort, but again, unsure he wouldn't be doing more damage, he recoiled and sat back down. He prayed Elizabeth would come before Stevie woke.

…

The DS allowed Elizabeth to drive her SUV in the entourage* alone, much to her thanks. The kids needed to vent, especially Jason. That boy had too much anger in him for his own good. She was surprised he managed to keep it tapped down for so long. The drive back home was too long. They had to go to a hospital that had SANE** nurse on hand, which was so few. [*I do not remember the term for the row of cars she has] [**Sexual Assault Nurse Examiner: nurses that are licensed to treat rape victims and administer rape kits]

Barely twenty minutes in and Jason ferociously slams his feet into the back of the passenger seat.

"Jason." Elizabeth whispers softly.

That's all he needs to start crying. Alison, alarmed, wraps her arms around her little brother, letting him burrow his head into her neck.

With tears still running down his face and his chest heaving, Jason shouts out, "it's not fair!"

Elizabeth agreed. It wasn't fair. Stevie had been doing really good. She had her internship with Russell, that she loved, and her relationship with Jared seemed to be on the right tracks. And now… someone dared to lay their hands on her daughter. They thought it was okay to violate her in the most vile way she could think of. Granted Elizabeth knew what it was like to undressed with the eyes of a complete stranger or harassed at work by coworker who thought just because her husband wasn't there that she wasn't going to fight back, but she had never been raped. And that was also a different time. It wasn't supposed to happen this much now. It was supposed to have lessened, if not ended.

"Mom?" Alison cried out.

"Yes, noodle?"

"Why won't she report it?!" Jason shouted. "He needs to pay." The thought that someone could have sex with someone who didn't want it, was ripping him up inside. All he could picture was Stevie crying out for help, and him just doodling on his homework at home. "I should've been there. I should've done something."

Elizabeth slid into their parking spot and then turned to face both of her children. "Listen to me, both of you. There is nothing either of you could have done to stop this. The man who did this is to blame- not you, not Alison, not your Dad... not me, and definitely not Stevie. This is all on him." She looked softly at them. They were so young, yet so amazing. They impressed every single day with the depth of their wisdom and their hearts. She was so proud just to know them. "Stevie is going to be okay. She is a brave, and wonderful person. And no matter what she chooses, we are all going to be there for her. That is the only thing we can do in this situation; be whatever she needs you to be. Help her when she needs it, and especially when she asks for it." She leaned over and kissed them on their foreheads. "Head in and get as much sleep as you can. You don't have to go to school tomorrow."

"You'll wake us up to go to Stevie when she wakes up?" Alison stared at her with pleading eyes.

"No, noodle. I'm sorry, but I will wake you up at breakfast. And then, I will take you to go see Stevie if she is not back by then."

…

Two hours after she had closed her eyes, Stevie woke up to the sound of his once-delightful giggle echoing in her mind. Dad was staring at the door and didn't notice her open eyes.

His brow was furrowed, and he looked tired. One of Stevie's first memories of her dad was him staring out into the distance. He was in his office, at the old house. He was writing his first book and it was taking a while. Stevie had been sitting in his doorway for a while, just watching him. Sometimes he would grumble something out of the blue, and it would usually be a silly sounding word like 'duty', or he would start talking about Mr. Thomas Aquinas, Dad's friend, who Mom would always complain about, but secretly loved.

"Dad."

Henry jumped. "You're awake."

"Where are the others?"

"Your mother took them to get some sleep."

"Okay." Stevie felt bad. He hadn't said her name in a while, and she knew it was because she had freaked out about it earlier. But she wasn't sure she was ready to hear her name like that now either. Which was ridiculous cause he's her dad! He helped her through everything. He always stuck up for her when Mom was unknowingly railroading her, and he packed her strawberries in her lunchbox as soon as they were in season, and-

"It's okay, you know."

Stevie looked up from her inner, oncoming meltdown.

"To no want to press charges right now… or ever, if that's what you decide." Henry leaned forward but stayed in the chair. "You were always the bravest girl when you were little. It's kind of fitting that the way you get kicked out of college is standing up for something."

"Well not kicked out per se…" She mumbled.

"Sweetheart." He peered softly at his firstborn. "As much as you butt heads, you are your mother's daughter. And when she goes down, she hits the ground hard. And when she's down it's like tunnel vision. She gets so focused on the 'now' and the 'surviving this moment' that she forgets that there will be a tomorrow." He paused. "You may not be… ready to file a report just this minute. But maybe- just maybe- there is a possibility you might want to do it later on. And in that case, maybe you can give your possible future self some help. Just in case. Give future you something to work with."

Stevie tries to swallow the tears, but as soon as Henry stops, they flood her face, the cries ripping from her throat.

Alarmed and afraid he pushed too far, Henry moves towards her. "Honey, what's wrong?" He inwardly smacks himself upside the head. "Sorry, stupid question."

"I'm scared!" Stevie cries out.

Henry bent down next to the bed. "Why?"

"Because I know him!"

Henry freezes for a moment. She knows him. This wasn't some stranger. This was a man who knew his wonderful little girl, and yet, continued on his quest to hurt her in this unimaginable way. He almost huffed aloud. What did he expect; monsters are monsters. There is no explaining away this evil.

"I-" Her tears overwhelm her so; she can barely get a word between the sobs that are wracking her body.

"Honey, DS can protect you. We can get you a bodyguard. Heck, we can get you a whole gang of them like your mom. We can keep you safe."

"No, Dad." She looks up at him, shaking from the fatigue and trauma both. "You- you don't understand! He- he didn't mean to!" She reaches over and grab's her father's hand, desperate for him to understand. "He isn't some degenerate, Dad. He didn't mean to- it was a mistake. People make mistakes. It wasn't his fault, Dad!" Her monitor began to beep uncontrollably. She was halfway out of the bed, clinging to his hand.

Henry gently guided her by her shoulder back onto the bed. "I understand, honey. But you need to take a brea-"

"He's a good person! He is loved! He has people who need him! It wasn't his fault, Dad! He wouldn't have done it if he was in his right mind! He loves me! He wouldn't do that."

At this, Henry stays silent.

"He loves me, Daddy. He wouldn't have done it if he remembered that he loved me."

Outside the hospital room, there is a cart filled with flowers. Henry stares at them, letting the minutes tick by. Stevie's sobs continue to fill the empty room, until they slowly turn to hiccups.

Henry looks away from the blinding yellow of an exceptionally beautiful sunflower and looks at Stevie gently. "No matter what the circumstances. He shouldn't get a pass for this." A pause. "What if he's out of his mind again? Then what?"

Stevie is laying curled on her side, riding through the hiccups. Once Henry finishes speaking, she opens her eyes, staring straight at her father. Neither speaks.

Outside the room, leaning against the outside wall, Elizabeth presses her hand harder against her mouth, muffling the cries that are desperate to slip out. She stays there, crouched and weeping, for nearly an hour. When she gathers herself to the point of being able to face her little girl, she enters the room. Both Henry and Stevie are sound asleep. Unable to do the same, she watches over them, until the sound of nurses whispering lulls her to sleep in the early hours of the next day.

…

[*I do not remember the term for the row of cars she has]

[**Sexual Assault Nurse Examiner: nurses that are licensed to treat rape victims and administer rape kits]


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: **TRIGGER WARNING** for explicit rape description.

Hey guys! I know it's been awhile. I have finally gathered some information on where I want to take this. Still a little rough around the edges though, so feel free to share some of your suggestions. I do know who the rapist is so feel free to guess but I ain't giving nothing away! 😊 -boots

Disclaimer: I don't own Madam Secretary.

…

"It's okay. I know, baby. It'll be over soon."

Stevie dug into her mother's arms. She wanted it to stop. But Dad was right; she would never forgive herself if she never gave her future self a chance. If he had done this before, or did it again, then maybe this would be useful to someone braver than her.

The SANE* nurse finished the outside vaginal swabbing and pulled out a speculum. "This will feel a bit uncomfortable, and I will try my best to be very quick."

Elizabeth motions for her to get on with it as Stevie lies on the bed deadly silent.

But as the speculum widened to reveal her cervix, Stevie cried out. "Mommy!" She sobbed. What had she done deserve this degradation?! Elizabeth swept her hair back from her face, whispering kind words in her ear. The swab went in.

She could hear him grunting.

"No, please."

"Shh. Hey, it's okay, it'll feel good. I'll make you feel so good. Pretty girl like you; you'll love it."

"No please-"

He pressed a rough kiss to her mouth, smothering her pleas. Hands wandered around her body. He was touching her everywhere. He wouldn't stop. She wanted him to stop. Why wouldn't he stop?! He wasn't supposed to do this. He was supposed to be better than this. He wasn't supposed to do this.

"Stevie? Stevie? Honey it'll be over real soon. You're such a brave girl. Everything's gonna get better. I know it hurts. You'll make it through this, baby."

Mom was still talking.

Stevie looked at the ceiling. It had brown stains circling like the weird videos of bacteria they used to show in old science class videos.

Another swab went in, this time deeper.

A few tears slipped from the corners of her eyes. They slipped down until she could feel them, cold and wet, in the shell of her ear.

The swab slipped.

"Ahh!" He was moaning in her ear, and his face was getting slightly red. She used to love watching him like this and hearing him like this.

The bed was creaking and creaking and creaking. How could no one hear this, it's so loud?

He was finishing. She could tell.

Oh God. He wasn't wearing a condom. Oh God.

"Ahh, oh! Stevie! Stevie… ahhgh." He finished. She could feel it.

He was breathing hard as he collapsed onto her chest. She could feel his sweat against her. She could feel all of him against her.

He nudged her cheek with his forehead. "That was great, baby. We should do it again some time, Stevie." He moved off her, turning onto his back beside her. He was reaching for something. "I'm feeling real good right now, so don't judge. I know you don't approve, but I swear it's the high end, no-fentanyl stuff so I won't die on ya."

Stevie eyes were locked on the ceiling until she felt his warm hand on her stomach.

She looked down and saw his eyes laughing up at her. He was trailing his warm hand on her stomach, going downward and downward.

She had to say something. God why wasn't she saying something?!

"Wait. Please." The words came out in a whisper.

He paused and grinned up at her. And then pulled out of a packet of cocaine. He poured the white powder onto her stomach, parting her legs to lower himself down.

"Stay still, babe. Wouldn't want to spill it."

She couldn't peel her eyes away from him. She watched as he divided the white powder with her card, and then snorted each line. With every line, he seemed to get more and more agitated and yet excited.

By the time he was done snorting cocaine, he was hard again. "Stevie you are so soft." He was still touching her. He nuzzled her between her legs, before seeming to get impatient. "Come here." He grabbed her behind the neck as he rose up, kissing her roughly.

Stevie's mind was ablur. He had just done like three lines of cocaine. Surely, he was high enough to not be entirely physically stable. It's now or never, Stevie.

Just as he was moving to enter her, Stevie slammed her legs together, surprising him and momentarily trapping his now slightly pained dick between her thighs. He cried out as she reached across and threw the bedside landline at his face.

Stevie quickly scrambled off the bed, tripping over her own purse, but stumbling to her feet. She sprinted for the door, hearing him scramble up behind her. She reached for the doorknob just as his hands pulled her shoulders back, pushing her onto the floor. He quickly scrambled on top of Stevie, pinning her down in a scramble of limbs, and- before she could think to scream- stuffing a loose sock into her mouth.

Instead of carrying her to the bed again, he raped her right there, inches from the door. There was a small bead of blood on his hairline from where the phone hit him, and she watched it slide slowly down as he thrust in and out of her angrily. This time hurt more, and she felt as if she should be bleeding with how rough he was being. He was pulling at her breasts and licking her neck at times.

Halfway through, he began to call her name.

"Stevie! Stevie! Oh God! Stevie! Stevie!" He picked up the face, shifting so he could thrust deeper. "Stevie! Stevie! Stevie!" She wished he would shut up.

When he finished, he leaned in close and gave her a soft peck on the lips. "You should go now, Stevie. I'm tired. And you have work tomorrow." Another soft peck.

He watched her put on her clothes and opened the door for her as she left.

"Stevie." Elizabeth squeezed her hand. "We're home. Why don't you take a nice bath and I'll make some tea."

Stevie blinked. "Okay."

Stevie took a long shower before stepping out of the tub. She changed her clothes and had a cup of tea before she sped upstairs quietly and took another, even longer shower.

…

*Sexual Assault Nurse Examiner: nurses that are licensed to treat rape victims and administer rape kits


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: **TRIGGER WARNING** for talk about rape.

Oddly enough, I find myself writing a bit more and laying out some more plot points. I hope you enjoy it. Also check out my other stories. Well the finished ones, cuz I don't want to give anyone hope I'll be finishing the chapter ones anytime soon. Also sorry about the pathetic reveal; I decided to just go for it. -boots

Disclaimer: I don't own Madam Secretary.

…

The next day, she refuses to stay inside. She makes sure via Alison's questioning, that no one outside the house and hospital knows anything. And then, despite her father and mother's pleas, she leaves for the White House.

_They would fire you if they knew._ The thought appears in her mind suddenly as she enters Russell Jackson's office. _They would destroy you and Mom and Dad, and no one would see you as anything more than the tramp who fucked the President's son. Just another Monica. It's not like anyone will actually give a damn. And if they do, time will make it fade._

"Stevie, you're here." Russell Jackson exited his office, eyes on his Blackberry. "Took you long enough. Make me a coffee, would you? And keep my caffeine intake to yourself this time!"

Oh, right. Stevie had told his wife about his three cups of coffee on Monday, when Carol had called her. Stevie smiled weakly and moved to the coffee machine. She had forgotten that. She had been afraid of how upset Russell would be then, but now, she could care less. She had forgotten. She bit back a manic laugh. Looks like one good thing came of it!

"Miss McCord?" Miss Julie was looking at her weird. Stevie was about to ask, when she realized she had been standing still in front of the coffee machine for a few minutes now.

"So sorry!" Stevie quickly pulled open the filter to dump out the old grounds, but in her hurry, they fell from her hands to the floor.

"Miss McCord!" Miss Julie knitted her brow together. Something was wrong with the eager intern today.

Stevie stared at the fallen coffee grounds that were staining the carpet deeper for every second that passed. What should she do now?

Russell Brennan's secretary took pity on her. "There should be some cleaning supplies in the hallway closet."

Stevie looked up at her. "Of course. Thank you." Shaking herself out of her unsure state, Stevie made herself move out to the hallway, searching along the row of doors for anything resembling a janitor's closet.

"Hey, Dad." The voice traveled from behind her.

Stevie froze where she stood. _Move._ She couldn't. _It's fight or flight- there is no freeze. So fucking move!_ Stevie opened the nearest door- a magically appearing women's bathroom- and stepped into it.

The voice grew louder and louder until it seemed to be only a few feet from her safe haven.

"What? Can't I stop by to see my dear old man?"

"Are you feeling well, son?"

The voices became distorted and louder and angrier. Stevie wanted to cry.

"Stevie?!" It was Kat. She had stopped by the restroom after a very short walk and talk meeting with Russell Jackson. Coming upon MSec's oldest daughter in obvious distress had not been on her schedule.

"What do I do?!" The girl cried out.

Kat swallowed a curse and bent down to the girl's level; Stevie had sunk down to her hands and knees, gasping for air.

"Okay, Stevie. I need you to take a breath."

Stevie took a few wheezing breathes, wiping at the tears streaming down her cheeks.

"That's good. You're doing good."

Stevie nodded before pushing herself up onto her feet.

"Wait, wait, honey!" Kat softly took Stevie's hand off the doorknob. "What happened? What's got you so worked up?"

Stevie smiled lightly. "I can see why my mom likes you so much."

"Flattery will get you into my good graces, but it won't take away my concern- so spill."

Stevie paused. Right then and there, she didn't care if Kat knew. She didn't care if anyone knew. She was so tired of it, and it had barely been a day. What if she told her? Did she want to tell her? She didn't know Kat all that well. But she could still just tell her, right? She could just go: "I was raped."

"..." Kat looked shaken. Wait did she just say that out loud!

"I mean…" Oh fuck.

"Hey, Stevie. It's okay. I'm not judging. Are you alright?"

Of course, she wasn't alright.

"Sorry, stupid question."

"No, no. I just… it's super fresh." Stevie stared past Kat. "And I'm not really sure what the right thing to do right now is."

"If you don't mind me asking… having you filed a report?"

"No. I'm not sure that would be the best thing."

"How so?" Kat asked gently.

"The situation is complicated between us. He's not a monster, he just made a mistake. He wasn't thinking straight, and it just got out of hand. I'm sure once he realizes what he did, he'll be sorry enough. I mean he has people who love him. He has so much more to do in life than rot in some prison somewhere." _I doubt he'd actually be convicted. I mean have you seen your own closet- talk about whore-ing around. And everyone knows you open your legs for everyone already, so what's the difference._

"What about you?"

"What do you mean?"

"You didn't deserve this. You didn't ask for it. You're not a monster. You're not the one who made this humongous 'mistake' that hurt another person this badly. You're going to have to live with the consequences either way, even if he doesn't. You have people who love you- who adore you. And you have aspirations that he has now made difficult for you to pursue, that won't be at all difficult for him." She paused. "You shouldn't have to brunt all of the consequences and pain for his 'mistake'."

Stevie shook her head. "Even if I was ready to put him in that position, there are too many factors involved. I just can't risk it."

"Legally, the media cannot publish your name if you do not want them to."

Stevie gave the older woman a look. "They would figure it out. And you know who they would blame." With that, she sighed and opened the door. "Just don't tell anyone, please."

"Does the Secretary know?"

"Yes."

"Okay. Stay safe, please."

Stevie closed the door behind her. Miss Julie scowled at her when she came in almost half an hour after she left for the cleaning supplies. Secretly though, she texted Russell Jackson worryingly as she watched the girl clean up the coffee grounds.

…


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: **TRIGGER WARNING** for mentions of underage drinking and references to assault and vulgar language.

Sorry about this. I feel like all I write is whump nowadays. I take my favorite characters and just like destroy their lives. My bad. -boots

Disclaimer: I don't own Madam Secretary.

…

Stevie could not go home. She couldn't end her first day after… what happened, with the pathetic note that was her inability to cope. So, at 7pm she headed for the bar closest to the White House.

Stevie smiled ironically as she showed the bartender her fake ID. He had been the one to get it for her. He surprised her with it the week after she graduated. He had been so excited to take her out for a drink, and she was so nervous. He just gave her little kiss on her forehead and went on this mock-dad lecture about the proper way to drink and responsibility. He made her laugh all the nervousness away. He made her have a shot first, because go big or go home. The bartender thought she had just turned 21- according to her fake ID- so her inexperience didn't look odd.

Stevie ordered three tequila shots before the bartender could even say hello. She needed to get drunk.

She was on her fourth tequila shot and second Long Island Iced Tea when she noticed the dipshit. He had on a baseball cap in September, and it must've been from some shitty team because she didn't recognize the Bagletown Bandits. Stupid name. Who calls a baseball team the bandits. It's like calling a sandwich a pie.

Baseball-boy was not very subtly leering at her. And normally Stevie would just ignore him or give him the finger. But this time she was drunk and feeling very angry with herself and the world. So, when he walked over to her, she didn't shoot him down.

"Hi, my name's Cody. May I sit with you?"

Huh. Cody was being polite. "Yeah, sure." What did she have to lose? He had dark hair and a chubby, dimpled face. He was handsome, despite the $300 sneakers.

"So, do you work around here?"

Stevie smirked. "That's classified."

"Oh." Wow he's gullible.

"You're not from here."

"Yup! Just visiting from Nevada. Not Las Vegas though. I'm from near the border, in Bagletown." He pointed to his cap. "My little brother plays on the town team. He's being recruited for the Cardinals."

Stevie blinked. She wanted another drink, but it didn't look like Cody was going to offer anytime soon. "The Cardinals?"

"…the Catholic University of America? Their baseball team?"

"Oh." He's Catholic? "Where is that?"

"It's right here in DC. You haven't heard of it?"

"No."

Cody's face fell. He had clearly thought that a brother being recruited for the Cardinals was a big enough hit line. His face looked tiny when he was sad.

"You wanna have sex?"

"What?"

Stevie leaned in closer, her heart racing. "Meet me behind this bar in two minutes and we'll have sex. If you don't come, I'll just have sex with someone else in this bar." She swallowed the rest of her Long Island and left through the back exit. This was a bad idea, but she couldn't bring herself to care. She wanted this.

She waited the full two minutes before he showed up, red as a beet and already sweating. Stevie watched as he wiped his sweaty hands on his khakis.

"I'm sorry, I don't know if I can do this."

Stevie felt her own face beginning to redden. What the heck was she doing?

"You're a nice girl and everything, but I can't…"

Stevie nodded, backing up. _Say something._

"Can I buy you a drink?"

"No." _Don't say that!_

"Okay. Sorry."

Stevie watched as Cody apologized a few more times before awkwardly ducking back into the bar. _Well I can't go back in there._ Someone shouted "Heather!" from the bar across the street. _That'll do._

Stevie came home at 3 in the morning, threw up in the kitchen, and fell asleep on the cold tiles beside the fridge.

* * *

"Elizabeth, this isn't healthy! I didn't even know she had one of these?"

"She's been through a lot. It's only been a day." A sigh. "We should've made her stay home."

"She was hell bent, honey. There was nothing that could've stopped her."

There was a pause, and then Elizabeth spoke again, but in a whisper. "Do you think we know him?"

"…"

"Henry?" She said his name almost trembling. "What if we meet him and talk to him, or let him into our house? What if he meets Stevie again… or Alison?!" Her youngest daughter's name was laced in tears.

"… I don't-" Henry spotted Stevie's hand shakily moving. "I think she's awake."

"Stevie, baby!" Elizabeth bent down in front of the girl, who was lying on the couch uncomfortably. "Here, baby, take this." She watched intently as a hungover Stevie swallowed the aspirin and water that was handed to her.

"Mom." She blinked open heavy eyes. "Aren't you supposed to be at work?"

Elizabeth glanced worriedly at Henry. "Baby, it's 5 am."

"Oh no, the folders." She mumbled. "Russell wanted a briefing on-" The memory of yesterday's near encounter with _him_ slid into her head.

"Sweetie, you don't have to go to work today. Russell Jackson can go to hell for all I care; you deserve a few days- maybe a couple of weeks- off."

"No!" Stevie immediately clutched her head in pain at her own outburst.

Henry gave Elizabeth a pleading look.

Elizabeth bent down to look Stevie in the eye. "Baby, I get that you want to get back to work as soon as possible, but that might not be the best thing right now. In fact, it could get you in a lot of trouble. Get a few days off from Russell- in fact, I'll deal with him if you want."

With tears in her eyes, Stevie relented. "Okay. But I can call him myself; it isn't very professional for you to do that."

Elizabeth nodded, secretly reminding herself to threaten Russell a bit if he pushed any.

Stevie waited until both her parents were otherwise preoccupied before she made the call.

"Good morning, Mr. Jackson*."

"What's so good about it?"

"W-"

"Did you finish the briefing?"

"No, I'm-"

"What's wrong with your voice, are you dying?"

"I'm just not feeling very well, and-"

"You better not get me or anyone in the department sick, McCord!"

"I was just wondering if I could have the day off?"

"Because you're not feeling well? Bring a damn hazmat suit and get to work! This isn't kindergarten, this is Washington DC!"

"I-" Stevie was so tired. "I can't come in today. I'm sorry I didn't do the work…" Tears welled her in her eyes. "I'm just so fucking tired... I'm sorry."

At the other of the line, Russell Jackson went quiet. "Fine. But get your shit together before coming back."

* * *

It was around 10 when someone knocked on the door. Stevie hadn't moved from her spot on the couch since Henry had carried her there last night. The silence of the house had irritated her so much after the others left that she turned on a play by play of one of Jason's shooting games, just to settle herself.

Stevie forced herself to her feet. "Coming!" She croaked out. Her head throbbed at the sound.

The person knocked again.

Stevie swept her hair back into a ponytail, adjusting her clothes as she opened the door.

"Hey there, gingy."

…

*Does anyone know how Stevie refers to Russell in person? I know at home she'll call him Russell Jackson. But what about in person?


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: **TRIGGER WARNING** for mentions of rape, abuse, and semi-nonexplicit description of suicidal action.

Sorry about the wait. I've been desperately waiting for _Ripple Effect_ updates. So much so, I've been neglecting you all. If anyone isn't reading that story- GO READ IT! WHAT ARE YOU DOING READING _I AM STEVIE_? THIS IS NOTHING! THE POWER OF WRITING WHICH IS HELD BY NONADHESIVENESS CANNOT BE REPLICATED! GO SHOO! READ _RIPPLE EFFECT_! -boots

Disclaimer: I don't own Madam Secretary.

…

When Stevie was little, and Mom still worked at the CIA, Dad would have times when he couldn't pick her up from school, so he would have her ride the bus home. Whenever a week or day like that would come- usually because he had an exam or a meeting about his book or his dissertation- Dad would always sit her down and he would remind her of the rules when you're home alone.

1\. If Dad wasn't home in 15 minutes, Dad would call (Dad always called).

2\. If someone knocks on the door, go upstairs and check who it is through the window first. If you don't know them, don't open the door.

3\. Even if you do know them, unless they are Mommy, Daddy, Aunt Isabelle, Aunt Juliet, Uncle Conrad, Uncle George, Uncle Will, Grandpa, Grandma, etc., she wasn't allowed to let them in.

4\. If someone breaks in, call the police and do as they say.

5\. Also hide.

6\. Don't go near the stove.

7\. Don't use the stool or climb on anything tall.

8\. Call Dad if you need anything.

Stevie wanted to call Dad so bad. But her phone was downstairs.

She wanted to be downstairs.

She wanted to be anywhere but here.

* * *

He was much slower this time. It took a while before it stopped; by the time it did, her bedroom wall and all of its decor had gotten fuzzy beyond comprehension. He had his entire weight on her wrists, and so she couldn't wipe the tears that welled up in her eyes. They got to sit there- blinding her- until they dropped on their own, sliding down the side of her face.

Thankfully the bed had been made. The only thing stained was going to be the blanket. Stevie could clean that up. She would have to scrub the stains out first. Maybe she should take it into the shower, scrub them directly with soap, and then put the blanket in the washer. Or should she just clean the entire thing in the shower? Or should she let the stains dry and then scrub them some more, and then put it in the washer? Or should she just fold it up and put in the basement? Who would really notice?

"I'm sorry about the other day. I was a bit rough."

Stevie stayed silent.

"It's just been a bit harder for me lately, to connect to anyone. They all think they know who I am. But it seems like all they think they know, they get from the tabloids." He looked down at his hands. "You seem to be the only one I have left. You've never shut me out, gingy. Thanks for that." He flashed her a genuine smile.

What could she say? No problem?

He leaned down and kissed her lightly on the forehead. "See you later."

"Later?" She croaked out.

"Yeah, I've been hanging out with my Dad a bit more. I feel like I'm getting better, despite everybody trying to get me down. And I know that Dad judges me by the tabloids, like everybody else, but he's still my Dad. I want to spend time with him…," he leaned in, a goofy smirk on his face, "I want to spend time with you. So, you'll probably be seeing me near Russell and them more."

Stevie couldn't let this go on. "I don't want this. Harrison, please stop!"

He looked away to the ceiling for a second. "This is all I really have, Stevie!" He glared at her. "Can't you let me have this?!"

Stevie shook her head. "This is wrong."

"Stop! This isn't about you. And it's not like we haven't done it before! I thought we were friends, Stevie. Heck, we're basically family!" He sighed. "It's not like I'm hurting you. I just crave you, baby."

"I don't want-" She stopped. Harrison had her throat in a loose grip; his hand simply resting there. But the action had been so sudden, it gave Stevie pause.

He squeezed slightly. "Don't make me hurt you, Stevie. I don't want to hurt you." His eyes bore into her. "But I will fucking destroy you if you try to mess this up for me. I am in a good place, and I don't need you fucking with that. Just let this happen- enjoy it- and you won't feel this need to be such a whiny bitch about it."

Stevie said nothing.

"Understood?"

Stevie bit her tongue.

"Understood?!" The hand around her neck squeezed hard.

"Yes!" She cried out.

"Good."

* * *

Alison came home an hour later. Jason an hour after that. Henry came home ten minutes after Jason. Elizabeth came home five hours and thirteen minutes after Henry. They each came upstairs one by one, peeked into Stevie's room to stare at her still figure, and then left.

A bit before Elizabeth arrived, Alison tried to get Stevie to come downstairs. Stevie locked the door after declining. She had decided cleaning the blanket would be a waste of time. It's not like it was going to remain clean forever.

Stevie popped out of her room at 8:52 pm, walking past her family- who were desperately trying not to stare- to get a glass of water. At 8:57, she took her father's razor from her parents' bathroom.

At 9:12, Jason knocked lightly on Stevie's door. When she didn't answer, he went to get a q-tip. At 9:13, Jason unlocked her door. He paused, aware of the privacy his sisters always demanded. He called out to her through the crack in the door. Jason hesitated.

At 9:14, Jason screamed out his sister's name as he desperately put pressure on her wounds. By the time the ambulance arrived, his arms and shirt were covered with Stevie's blood.

…


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: _ LIGHT TRIGGER WARNING_ for mentions of blood.

Hello my lovely readers! Second update in one day means I'm feeling like a _**Responsible Adult**_. This is nice. Enjoy the read. -boots

Disclaimer: I don't own Madam Secretary.

…

Stevie had taken AP Photography* in high school. Back then, she would sometimes pick up Alison and Jason from school, as practice after getting her license. Sometimes, at a stop sign or a red light, she would pull out her phone and take pictures of the horizon. Of the cars. Of the person waiting impatiently at the crosswalk. Jason and Alison would always yell at her and tell her to keep her eyes on the light and the road and to keep her hands on the steering wheel; "I'm too young to die" was said at least once during every trip.

Now the DS agents were driving Elizabeth, Alison, and Jason to the hospital. And Jason couldn't stop himself from looking out of the windshield and staring at the way the lights of the ambulance rolled around the defiantly bright streets. DC always seemed to be fighting the darkness at night. And right now, Jason could see where the darkness and the light met, and how wonderful it looked.

He felt like he should take a picture. He also felt that Alison might think it was inappropriate.

"I talked to her. Just like an hour ago. She said she didn't want any food. I should have insisted." Alison kept talking in these breaks. All Jason could think of was how that might be was his AP Psychology teacher meant by a coping mechanism.

Elizabeth shifted to look at Alison. It was like she had forgotten they were there too. That was why Dad had told the DS agents to take them to the hospital instead of directly telling Mom to go. Mom didn't look so well.

Elizabeth turned to Jason, who was sitting between the two women. "When we get there, I'll ask a nurse for some scrubs** for you."

Oh, right. Jason fought not to look down at himself. He knew he had her blood on him. Red was caked in every crevice of hands; if he took a photo, he would have to look at his hands rising up to take a picture of the ambulance that was carrying his unconscious sister.

"Mom?" Alison was looking past him worriedly.

Mom was pale. Her hands were rubbing against each other and she was tugging on her wedding ring and twisting it roughly. "I'm fine, baby."

It was the blood, Jason could tell. She hadn't looked at him for a good couple of minutes until now. Ahead of their SUV, the ambulance's sirens whirred furiously at a sedan that remained stubbornly in the middle of the tight road.

"Should we call Jareth?" Jason asked. Everything had happened so quickly, he wasn't even sure if his future brother-in-law knew about what had happened.

"No!" Alison quickly shot him down. "He just came back from that New York thing the day before yesterday, and they had a fight before he left, so he wouldn't tell her what time his flight was coming in. She should be the one to decide if Lipton-lover should know!"

Jason crinkled his nose. Jareth was Stevie's fiancé; he felt like they should tell him.

"Lipton-lover?" Elizabeth asked.

Alison shrugged. "Yeah, he has this weird thing about tea. He went on a whole rant when he found a Lipton*** box in the cupboard when he came back from England that last time. So she just calls him Lipton-lover whenever she's angry with him. Cuz she knows it'll piss him off, even though it's stupid."

Elizabeth smirked, laughing slightly. "Why _did _she have that?"

"It's where she keeps her coupons." Alison replied.

Elizabeth and Jason looked at her surprised. "Coupons?" They both said.

"Mostly for fabric and subway."

Jason blanched. "Subway? Seriously?"

Alison raised a brow. "What, you have something against subway now? You were snarfing it down just last week."

Jason didn't say anything. He was too busy watching as the ambulance pulled up to the hospital. The terror that he felt when he had first opened Stevie's bedroom door came back to him. The DS agents stopped just out of the way of the ambulance drive-in, opening their doors as they secured the area. Jason watched, feet stuck to the concrete, as his father climbed out of the back of the ambulance arms as bloody as his, and red eyes that latched onto him and then pulled away to connect with Elizabeth's. A silent look and he rushed in with the paramedics, sheer determination preventing them from stopping him. At least until the nurses showed up.

Jason watched his father argue with the nurses and then shrink back. He couldn't move. He didn't want to go inside. His feet stuck to the cement.

"Hey, baby." Elizabeth notices his reluctance. Alison has already run to Henry's side. She glances at her husband and then back to her baby boy. "Jason, honey, look at me. No matter what happens, me and your dad will be here. We will not leave your sister and you. All we can do for Stevie is pray that she's okay."

Desperate not to seem like child he felt, Jason quipped back. "I thought you didn't believe in praying."

"Yeah, your dad is a bad influence." She grabbed his hand. "Whatever happens, honey. We will deal with it."

Jason had been angry with his mom for a while. He didn't agree with some of the things she did at work. And he didn't think some of her and Dad's stuff was right. Like not telling them about Iran. But right now, he couldn't help but love her so much. She had been shaken in the car and when it happened. That was Stevie in the ambulance. But she was ready now, because he and Alison and Dad needed her to be. And Jason couldn't help but love her for that.

…

*AP stands for Advanced Placement. These are courses taken by high schoolers that are meant to mimic college level courses in their difficulty, and thus end in a long, gruesome exam at the end of the year which decides whether the student has done well enough in the class for it to be counted as a college credit.

**special clothing designed for medical professionals.

***a tea brand that is known by tea-lovers to make weak and pathetic hot tea.


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: _**TRIGGER WARNING **_for mentions of suicidal thoughts and actions, and lots of underage cursing, and yeah.

I know. I was gone for a bit. I had a really difficult time writing this chapter, but I finally got the mumbo jumbo working. I'm really busy right now, so my writing is sporadic at best. To make up for it, this is a pretty decently long chapter. Again, my apologies. -boots

Disclaimer: I don't own Madam Secretary.

…

Stevie didn't consider white her color. Yeah, Alison always smiled when she wore it, and continued to insist that it suited her complexion, but Stevie could only remember the moniker that almost all her aunts and uncles- biological and otherwise- seemed to instantly adopt at the sight of her- the birthday girl- dressed in white overalls, a white halo, with a lop-sided white tutu: _angel_.

It didn't matter that white stopped being her go-to color when she turned seven years old and everyone continued to call her that- except Mom and Dad, bless their hearts- despite her adamant tantrums that she wasn't an angel. Angels were what filled a whole shelf of Dad's bookshelf. She was a person, not an angel. She didn't have wings and she wasn't perfect and special and pure.

But it didn't stop. To this day, Aunt Maureen will greet her with "_angel_" at Thanksgiving dinner. And the rest follow out of habit. Sometimes Mom slips and almost says angel, but Dad never did. Probably because he knows what its like to grow sick of an affectionate nickname; Half of Pittsburgh still called him Little Docy, after his desire to be a doctor as a child. Apparently, that wasn't a common dream in that part of town.

Sitting here, in a white gown and on white sheets, surrounded by white walls and white flooring, Stevie felt raw and open like a mutilated frog in a high school biology class*. She felt scrubbed until all of her skin was gone, and all her veins and organs were out in the open for all to see. She felt like an angel.

* * *

_"Miss McCord?" _

"_She seems to be responding well."_

"_Has she spoken?"_

"_There is no need for worry. There was only the usual damage we see for these sorts of incidents. Nothing so severely damaging."_

"_I would suggest a psychiatrist look at her. I can give you a referral."_

* * *

The doctors wanted to send her home.

"Are you sure? She isn't responding to much of anything! Shouldn't we stay for a bit long-"

"Dad." Stevie opened her eyes, looking straight at the him mid-sentence. "I'm fine. I want to go home."

Henry closed his eyes, took a breath, and then signed the papers. Mom squeezed his hand with hers as the nurse left to get the wheelchair.

* * *

"Stevie." It was Mom. She was standing in the doorway of the master bedroom. Dad had silently decided to sleep with Jason.

"Mom?"

As a child, Stevie often told her mother her small childhood secrets in the early darkness of the morning, curled up between Elizabeth and Henry- having found her way there around 1am- whispering them in her mother's ear like they were the most important things she would ever tell a soul.

"We love you, Stephanie. All of us." Mom seemed to be having trouble with her words. "I know it's hard but… stay with us… please." Whatever words she had left to say, clogged in her throat and pushed a tear to crawl down the side of her nose. She looked away, like a child not wanting to cry in front of their classmates. "Oh baby." She whispered.

Stevie closed her eyes. She felt the bed dip as her mother crawled in.

"You are loved, Stephanie. And you are wanted. You've got so much left to see, don't let them stop you." Elizabeth laid down beside her.

Stevie said nothing, simply shuffling until her head was next to her mother's chest. Elizabeth didn't hesitate; she wrapped her arms around her child and pulled her against herself. Stevie fell asleep to the beating of her mother's heart.

* * *

"Dad ordered Chinese." Alison whispered from the doorway. Stevie hadn't moved from the bed since she got home, and Mom had to go to work, so it was just her and Dad and Jason. It was lunchtime when she decided that as the only woman in the house, she had to be the one to get Stevie out of bed and eating. Dad seemed to just fret silently by lingering near the stairs and in the upstairs hallway. Jason seemed to be too hesitant to come downstairs at all.

"I'm not hungry, Al."

Alison shuffled a little closer. "Please. Dad is worried cuz you haven't eaten."

A sigh. Stevie shifted to face her little sister. "Fine." She didn't move any further.

Alison blinked at her. "You're not moving."

"Don't want to."

"Why not?"

"Tired."

"Food is energy."

"Don't want it."

"Food?"

"Energy."

"Why?"

"'Just don't."

The sound of clinking dishes came up the stairs. Dad was fretting in the kitchen now.

"Mom had to go to work."

"Russia?"

"She didn't say."

Stevie suddenly sat up on the bed. "Wait."

Alison moved forward. "What? What's wrong?"

Stevie lunged toward her, grabbing Alison by the shoulders. "What did Mom tell Russell Jackson about why I'm not there?!"

"I don't know!"

Stevie scrambled, falling off of the bed, and ran downstairs. "Dad!"

"Stevie!" Henry stepped back in shock, as a frazzled looking Stevie stopped in front of him. "What's wrong?"

"What did Mom tell Russell Jackson?!"

Henry hesitated.

"Dad?" Stevie pleaded.

"She didn't tell him anything, just that you would be out for a few."

"Russell would've pushed."

"She said it was better he not know. To just go along with it and let it go."

Stevie gave a puzzled look. "And it worked?"

"Yeah."

Stevie stepped back. Why would Russell Jackson just let her absence go like that? Unless… he was planning on firing her anyway. She was super out of line in that last call, and she never got him those briefing notes. Stevie sunk down to the floor. Fuck. Had she been fired?

"Stevie?" Henry bent down, brow furrowed. "Is everything alright?"

"So, he doesn't know?"

"No. Your mother and I haven't told anyone. It isn't our place, honey. That's all your choice, whoever you want to tell is up to you."

Stevie wanted everything to stop. It felt like too much. "I told Kat."

If Henry was surprised, he didn't show it. "Oh. Did you want to?"

"I guess. It just came out."

"Is there anyone else you want to know?"

She shrugged. The tiles weren't as soothing to sit on as she remembered. Her stomach whirled and her chest felt heavy. The urge to cry came over her, but she couldn't feel any tears.

"Do you want something to eat?"

"Mm." She was tired to respond. She tried to make herself cry but all she could get was the feeling. She desperately wanted to sob.

Henry was still bent down, so Stevie tried to reach for him. When he came a little closer, she grabbed his shirt and he understood. Henry held her in his arms, letting her cling to him desperately.

Stevie spent an hour searching for tears that never came. In the end, they ate Chinese food while watching _Planet Earth_**.

* * *

They were briefing her on China. Or maybe it was Ukraine. No, it was China. But didn't Jay just say something about Ukraine?

"And then Minister Chen's aide basically just stomped that idea into dust!" Matt huffed.

Aha! So, it was China. Elizabeth picked up the binder Jay had handed her; he seemed to be getting to the end of his explanation and she hadn't understood anything.

"Ma'am." Daisy looked at her, raising her eyebrows. Elizabeth hated it when she did that; it never meant anything good. She was about to shoot her down when Jay got that scowling expectant look on his face.

"Yes, Daisy."

Daisy pointed at something on her tablet. "Ma'am, I have a source in the Hogarth Chronicle that says they're about to come out with a story on your daughter."

Elizabeth's brain tuned in. "Which daughter?"

"Stephanie, ma'am."

"What's it about?"

"I don't know, he hasn't said. I was hoping you had an idea."

Daisy was bad at fishing, but how long could they keep Stevie's suffering quiet? Elizabeth closed her eyes.

"Ma'am? Surely you must have an idea what it's about? Has Stevie done anything that might-"

"Daisy." Kat closed her binder, looking towards the Secretary. "Let's not jump to conclusions. She's off limits to the media either way."

Daisy raised an eyebrow at her colleague. "Would you like to explain to the gaggle?" She turned back to the Secretary. "Whatever it is, the sooner we can deal with it, the better. I don't want to be caught with our pants down."

Elizabeth bored her eyes into her press secretary's tablet. "For now, push back on your source- see if you can find out what he knows. And try and have him stall the information from getting out into the public for as long as you can. And I'll get back to China later, Jay." Whatever it was, it didn't sound catastrophic enough that it couldn't wait. "Blake, tell DS we're going to head home in 5." If the media caught wind of Stevie's problems, they would tear her to shreds before the poor thing even had a chance to recover.

* * *

_**"As pornstar, Chrissy Fair, makes her way to the witness stand this afternoon, new allegations are rising of a possible affair with the director- then assistant director- of an adult film company, Sweaty Bettys- Chuck Mayfield, during his marriage with adult film actor, Brent Huck, in 2003, and while Mayfield was her direct supervisor. Chrissy Fair's attorney declined to make a comment, but Chuck Mayfield did tweet out yesterday: 'I am a human being with desires. My marriage with Brent was an open one. He was more than fine with it. Chrissy was a good lay back then- although she seems a bit whiny now. Good luck with the crazy one-night stand, Hagen! #ShesAPornStar'. Senator Hagen declined to comment. He has currently been out on a $5000 bail, before the trial this afternoon deciding whether he will be convicted of two counts of felony sexual assault. This is Mike Drevis, reporting to you from Courthouse 27, Hagerstown, VA. Back to you in the studio."**_

* * *

Elizabeth came home around 11 in the morning, a shift in her routine which would have jostled her more- with every piece of her day having shifted perspectives- if not for the nagging push of her breast bone smothering her organs, as the possibilities of Stevie's life and future and self, rambled on in her mind, preventing any irritation from disrupting her worry. Thankfully, Henry was home, leaned back in his old swivel chair in the office, palms up and eyes closed; bearing an uncanny resemblance to a saint beseeching God in an old chapel carving.

"Henry." He looked positively beautiful, but she knew this couldn't wait.

"Mm." Eyes still closed, he bent over, propping his elbows on his knees, and began to slowly rub his eyelids. "You're early."

"The media knows about Stevie."

Sad, bleary eyes looked up at her. "Are you sure?"

What she wouldn't give to say no. To take him by the hand upstairs, and snuggle with him under their warm, heavy blanket for the rest of this ordeal.

Elizabeth nodded. "Daisy has a source who tipped her off. I've asked her to fill all the favors she has to hold it back as long as she can… but Henry…" she ran a finger across his forehead, pushing aside a small strand of hair, "it's a big story. Someone is going to publish sooner than later. I can't-" Elizabeth moved closer to him, weaving her fingers deeper into the head that pressed itself into her hip. "I can't protect her from them, Henry. We can sue them for victims' rights and all that crap, but at the end of the day, I can't stop it from existing."

Henry just wrapped his arms around her legs, tighter and tighter until Elizabeth tilted his chin up. The faint patches of dried tears lingered on his cheeks. She tilted his chin back down and let him cry.

* * *

Alison couldn't sit still. Mom had come home early, headed straight to the office where Dad was planted, and hadn't been out for twenty minutes. It could only be bad news; it had only been bad news so far. Alison had been sitting at the dining table when Mom came in and had watched her as she walked into the office. Just as the door behind them closed, Alison's worry bubbled upward, forcing her onto her feet. She paced back and forth in the kitchen, knuckles itching to tap on the office door. Desperate to ease her gnawing gut, she hurried up the stairs.

Jason was sitting, criss cross applesauce*** at the edge of his bed, door wide open and right ear earbud-free and cocked expectantly at his open door. He turned slowly to look at her as he gingerly shut his laptop and lay it on the mattress above him.

"What's wrong?"

Jason shrugged.

Alison glanced worriedly at the stairs. Jason had been near silent since Stevie had come home. She had been expecting one of his rage tantrums at some point, but nothing.

She debated mentioning it to her parents, but hesitated. She didn't want to worry them anymore than they already were. Yeah Jason and Stevie were like twin personalities, but that didn't mean they were exactly the same. After all, Stevie had had other factors that contributed to her trying to kill herself.

Alison swallowed. She would know, right? She would know if Jason was being hurt. Right?

Jason rubbed at his eyes and sighed. "Who is it?"

"What?"

Jason eyed her. "Who just came into the house, dweeb?"

He said dweeb so pathetically too. Alison sighed. She missed him genuinely bugging her. "Mom. She came home early."

Jason's eyes widened. "That's… really early."

Alison glanced down the hall at her parent's bedroom. Stevie had graciously kept the door open for them and she could see the lump of Stevie's feet under the blanket.

Jason walked over to peer at Stevie with her. "Do you think she'll try again?"

_Smack! _Alison's hand landed square on the upside of Jason's head. "Don't even say something like that!" She hissed.

Jason bit his tongue at the sight of her watery eyes, choosing instead to shove her lightly as he moved past her to the stairs. Alison followed behind him, glancing back- once, twice, three times- at Stevie's feet lump as it disappeared from her view.

At the bottom of the stairs, Jason glance toward the silent and shut office doors.

"They've been in there for like half an hour."

"Mm." Jason opened the fridge.

"I bet something's happened."

Jason picked up a yogurt.

"We have a right to know- Stevie's _our_ sister!"

Nah. Jason put the plastic cup down. It was blueberry yogurt; not worth it.

"And it's like so obvious something's wrong. Or should I say wronger, cuz nothing has been right lately. I mean Stevie… of all the people in the world."

Jason pursed his lips. He grabbed the plastic, orange _My Little Pony**** _cup left over from when Anna and Aunt Sophie visited. Orange juice or apple?

"And like, am I the only one a little irked by Jared's non-existent concern? I mean if I hadn't seen my fiancé in like, what, a week- I would be hella worried!" Alison huffed. "I mean like what is up with that?"

"Jareth."

"What?"

"His name is Jareth."

"That's what I said."

"No, you said Jared."

"No, I said Jareth."

"Well, I mean one would think you would remember your own sister's fiancé. I mean it's not like Mom and Dad have spent the last two months giggling every time they say his name or anything."

"Don't be a jerkface! I remember his stupid name. I mean who the hell name's an adorable little baby Jareth?"

"How do you know he was adorable?"

Alison narrowed her eyes at him. "I am making an inference, okay. Do you know what an inference is, _Jacey_?"

A tight look came over Jason's face. "I know what it means. Only problem is, for an inference, you need actual comparison data. And I would very much like to hear about the large expanse of experience you have with adorable babies and their adulthood equals, _sissy_."

Alison's face turned beet red. "Don't call me that, fartface!"

"Well then stop being so" he lowered his voice to a whisper, "fucking annoying." He closed the fridge door and stepped further into his sister's space. "I get it. It sucks. Deal with it. You know who has it worse? Stevie. While you were at class today, she took four showers. From 6 to 10 am. Four. Fucking. Showers. I could see the steam coming out from under the door. She was fucking burning herself alive in there." The intense look on his face wavered, and Alison froze as his lower lip started to tremble. "And Dad… Dad went in Stevie's room to clean up the- a little... I could hear him muttering and scrubbing and..." He had never seen his father so upset before.

Alison wrapped her arms around her little brother.

"I researched it. Stevie's rapist probably wouldn't go to jail even if she told. She probably knew that, right Ali? She knew that and that's-" Jason stopped, sinking down to the linoleum. His face was flushed with grief, but clean of tears. He stared up, red eyed at his older sister.

"She'll get better soon, Jace."

He just hung his head pathetically.

That was the moment in which Elizabeth stepped out of the office, feeling like as if she was intruding on the scene before her. "Jason, honey." She bent down, arms outstretched.

Jason instantly moved in, seeking the comfort only his mother could provide. Elizabeth wiped at the dried remnants of tears on his cheeks. She then beckoned Alison closer.

Before Elizabeth had come home early, Alison had been sitting watching the news on her phone. It was amazing how much things stood out when you could see the effects in the next room. She had always felt horrified by accounts like Stevie's, but now just the thought of someone forcing such an intimate act on- Alison swallowed the urge to stick her finger down her throat and spew all of the awfulness out. It felt like she had swallowed sap covered stones, sticky and heavy and pressing against her chest.

Elizabeth beckoned again, arms temptingly within reach, moments away from folding her into their comfort.

Alison didn't move. "What were you and Dad talking about?"

"Just some work stuff."

"You're lying." Alison bit out. She could feel the tears itching upward, but the desire to look and act adult, enough to be made privy to her parents' conversation, won out.

Elizabeth tilted her head towards Alison. "I'm not lying, I can tell you that much."

"So, you admit that there's something you're not telling us!"

Elizabeth sighed, beckoning her again. "It's something to do with Stevie. And I won't tell you until Stevie has made a decision and given me permission to tell you."

Alison looked imploringly at her mother. "Stevie's not pregnant, is she?"

"No, no!" Elizabeth shook her head fervently.

"That's not physically possible, Ali." Stevie's voice carried in from the stairs. She was standing, leaning against the railing, on the second to last step. Her hair was pulled back in a messy bun, stray strands plastered to her face with sweat and her skin had taken on a greyish tint since Elizabeth had last seen her this morning. "He's not a big fan of his own genes. He's had a vasectomy*****."

Elizabeth looked away. A vasectomy. Older men usually had vasectomies. Still, they lived in DC: a beacon to the old and political.

Stevie shuffled slowly into the foyer, settling like an elderly cat in the nook of the couch. "So, what do I have to make a decision about?"

Elizabeth glanced at the office door. Henry could definitely hear them. She waited another beat. The son of a gun was hiding in there. "Alison and Jason why don't you head upstairs for a minute."

"No, it's fine." Stevie picked a few crusties from her eyes.

The office door remained closed. "Daisy came to see me. She thinks the media may have gotten a hold of your story."

Stevie swallowed. "Which one? The one where I try and kill myself, or the one where I get raped?" She chuckled. "Or did they hit the jackpot and get both?"

Elizabeth sat down next to her. "I don't know, baby."

Jason looked like a statue on the kitchen floor, palms plastered to the tiles and eyes fixed on the shiny fridge door. Alison looked fervently between both women, fingers scratching unconsciously on her left palm.

"It's going to get out anyways."

"Is that what you want?"

"Doesn't matter what I want."

"Yes, it does."

"No, it doesn't. The media is going to do what they want. He is going to do what he wants. What I want clearly doesn't matter."

Inside the office, Henry jumped to his feet, heartbeat racing.

"Honestly, you all don't even care what I want."

Jason raised his head, glassy eyes bearing into her. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"I wanted to die, didn't I?"

…

Hope you liked it. Sorry for the cruel ending. Please leave reviews on how well you think this chapter was and things that didn't go well or should be changed.

*props to anyone who gets this reference!

**a documentary-type series by BBC that is full of really cool nature stuff and explanations by this awesome voice-over guy

***a rhyme used to teach children how to sit on a carpet as 3 or 4 year olds, which involves crossing ones legs

****a television show for children, involving cartoon ponies with magical powers

*****a procedure men can have to take away their ability to have children


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: _**TRIGGER WARNING**_ for mentions of suicidal thoughts and actions and sexual assault.

Sorry, I know this is short but I felt like it came to a natural end. Next chapter might take a couple because I have a s*** ton of deadlines due soon. Bon appetit. -boots

Disclaimer: I don't own Madam Secretary or Coraline.

…

Two thumps sounded at the same moment. One came from the office, where Henry slammed his left palm into the nearby wall to steady himself. The second came from the kitchen, where Jason kicked the metal fridge door with all his might, forcing a shot of pain through his heel and into his leg.

"Jason!" Elizabeth called out, her son's beet red face and squeezed white lips pushing her to her feet.

Jason rose up with her, ignoring the pain in his leg, and punched the fridge door this time with a clenched fist. Again, again, ag- Elizabeth grabbed his arm. He yanked it back. Again, again, again, ag- Henry grabbed his wrist and twisted it behind his back.

"Stop!" Henry crowded his son against the counter, Jason trying to kick back at him and squirming and pushing back against his father's chest.

"Let go of me!" Jason finally screamed out.

"Are you done?"

Jason stilled, face still contorted in fury but body clenching itself in restraint.

Henry let go of his wrist, backing up just enough to let him turn around.

Jason noticed Elizabeth's pale face and her eyes transfixed on something… he looked down and saw his hands. Skin must have broken when he punched the fridge, and then in the grapple with Dad- the blood had spread all over his palms and knuckles and into the crevices of his nails. Mom looked horrified. Alison looked terrified. Stevie looked… surprised?

"Wait there." Mom seemed to swallow her emotions quicker this time, and moved into the office, shifting around in there until she came back out with a bright blue, cloth zip-up bag.

"Come 'ere." Dad's voice was gruff, and he wouldn't look him in the eyes. He moved Jason towards the kitchen sink, turning the faucet on to let out a trickle of cold water. Henry quickly rolled up Jason's sleeves, taking each hand and softly running the water over it. Then he took the newest, soft kitchen towel and wrapped each hand in it gently, pressing the entire hand just dry enough.

Mom then led him into a dining room chair. Alison and Stevie moving forward, fully entering the kitchen and hovering behind Henry to watch. Mom took out the ointment, gently layering it on each small cut. She pushed slightly on one rapidly swelling knuckle and, when Jason teared up visibly, she took out a long, half metal and half cloth popsicle stick-like thing that she shifted to align with his finger. Then she wrapped it with a stretchy cloth-like material until his finger was braced against the stick.

Lastly, she grabbed him roughly by the chin and looked straight into his eyes, her fingers digging into his skin. Her voice was hard when she spoke. "In this family, we resolve our issues with our words. Do not ever strike out like that again. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"You and Alison are going to your rooms now. Your Dad is going to order some pizza; we will call you down when it gets here."

As soon as her last sentence ended, Alison skittered off at a brisk pace with Jason full speed behind her. Jason looked back before he made it to the top; Mom was standing in front of Stevie, face stern and mouth opening, with her hand gently wrapped around her daughter's. Henry was standing to the side of the two and looked up to meet Jason's eyes. For the first time in nearly a week, Jason saw his Dad's eyes clear and alert and perfectly there, just like they used to be.

…

"You guys can come on down." Stevie said softly. She was standing in the doorway of Alison's room, watching as she applied navy blue nail polish to Jason's immobile hand. "You may want to put that in the nail dryer before you come down. Dad ordered from Josie's so it's-"

"Really runny?"

"Really saucy." Alison corrected. "Some people appreciate her holding back on the cheese. It really is bad for you."

"So is actual pizza." Jason softly retorted.

Stevie sat down next to her little brother. He looked tiny and shaken. Jason was Mom's unspoken favorite: her darling, misunderstood, little, genius boy. She didn't do Stone Elizabeth with him. Stevie and Alison had gotten it once- maybe twice for Stevie- in middle and high school.

Alison finished the last fingernail. "Okay, now just be careful with how you move around. This is my favorite nail polish okay."

Jason tilted his hands from side to side. "It feels heavy."

"That's the nail polish."

"Mm."

Stevie wanted to reach over and run a soothing hand through his hair. But Jason sat only a foot away- facing away from her, still turning his hands this way and that for inspection- and Stevie could already feel the panicky thump in her chest. Damn it. She wanted to be able to hug him like she had hugged Dad just a few hours ago. What was so different between the two? They looked a lot alike. They were literal blood. But she couldn't bring herself to bridge the gap; to reach out, like she had so many times before, and tousle his hair, laughing as he whined about the time it took to style it.

Alison noticed Stevie's hand, slightly hovering above the blanket, stopped midway between her and Jason. She felt like jumping for joy. This was good. She wanted to get better. She wanted to be able to reach out to Jason. Maybe this meant she wanted to live.

"The pizza's getting cold." Henry called into the room. He smiled as he walked in. "Nice nails, Jace. I didn't know you wanted to get your nails done."

"Alison needed someone to practice on." He said softly, not looking up.

"Why don't you two head down?" Henry jokingly pulled on Alison's arm until she rose up. Jason glanced back at them as they made their way down the stairs. Just as he was about to turn back to the wall, he saw Elizabeth walking out of Stevie's room. She was holding a large plush carrot.

"Jason." She said. Elizabeth sat down next to him, also facing the wall he had quickly turned back to. "This is for you." She pushed the giant cartoon carrot into his lap.

Jason turned it over in his hands, careful not to mussy up the nail polish.

Henry scooted over to the other side of Jason. "When Stevie was about eight, she had the most horrible kid rage ever. She would rip up her clothes and hit your mother when she tried to calm her down. It was just awful. One day, her teacher had taken all of the kids to see Coraline. The movie got Stevie really scared, but she didn't want her friends to know so she didn't say anything. But when she got home, she started to cry, and when that wasn't enough, she took the fancy china that your grandmother had gifted us on our wedding day and shattered each and every single plate on the kitchen floor. We stopped her before she got to the tea cups, but she had already gotten a long cut down her arm. She had to get fifteen stitches at the emergency room."

Jason rubbed at the faded eyes of the cartoon carrot. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to get like that. I just got really frustrated with Stevie and I… I don't know… I guess I wanted to hit something."

Henry glanced at Elizabeth above their son's bowed head. "We understand that, Jace. But this seems to be becoming a pattern with you and that's not something we can be lax on. We got this for Stevie around that time. She would squeeze it when she was angry or scared, so that she had something to do. Stevie, very kindly, offered to lend it to you." Henry bent down to look the boy in the eyes. "I think you really scared her there. It's been a while since me and your Mom even thought about this thing."

Jason pressed the carrot to his chest; the sight fueling the guilt layering in Elizabeth's throat.

"Jason, we love you. And we know you love Stevie. And what is going on right now with her is horrible and it hurts, I know. But the… the rape and the suicide attempt," Henry clenched his jaw, "they are Stevie's fight."

"But aren't we supposed to help-" Jason burst out.

"Wait." Elizabeth raised a brow. "Let your father finish."

Henry rubbed the lines on his forehead clean. "I'm not saying we don't help and support her. I'm saying that it isn't your fight. Yes, you should help Stevie with this. But you cannot bear this entirely by yourself. It isn't yours to bear. There are somethings in life in which we can only ever be bystanders. There is no hero role here, Jace."

Elizabeth blinked away her own tears, laying a warm hand on her son's clenched shoulders. "Jason?" She knocked her knee against his slightly. "I know this is a hard time- for you, for this entire family. We're all unsure of what to do. And I know that it must have been awful to hear that from Stevie."

Jason blinked ferociously. "Yeah, well she doesn't seem to care."

"Care about what?"

Jason pushed at the carrot's eyes.

Elizabeth glanced over his head to Henry. Nodding to her husband, she gently placed a hand on Jason's cheek, slowly sliding it down to cradle his chin.

Jason didn't look up.

Elizabeth leaned over and touched the tip of her nose to the side of his head, right above his ear. "Stevie did not mean to hurt you, baby. She was hurting and it was so overwhelming that she lashed out."

"So, she gets to say stuff like that? She gets to 'be hurting'"- he jut his fingers in the air mockingly- "and say stuff and do stuff like that and it's ok!" He shoved the carrot off his lap and plop on the ground. "But when I do it," his voice slowed down, "then I have anger problems."

"She-"

"Didn't mean it? Is that what you were going to say? That she didn't mean it?" Jason let out an incredulous laugh in his mother's face. His face hardened as he started into Elizabeth's eyes. "She meant it, Mom. She wants to die. She doesn't care about us finding her like that. She-"

"You."

"What?"

"It was you that found her, not us." She corrected. "You found her, Jason."

Jason didn't reply. He just stared harder at his mother until his unblinking eyes began to water and Elizabeth could stand it no longer and folded him into her own arms. Jason let her, silently staring deep into the carpet stains of Alison's room, with his mother's perfume and softness and tender, soothing words enveloping his senses almost completely.

Jason had found Stevie. Jason had found her.

Henry tousled the boy's hair before stepping out of the room, shutting the door behind him, and stepping into the master bedroom instead.

"Hi, Dr. Sherman, is this a good time?... No, nothing like that… Actually, it's about our kids…"

…


	11. Chapter 11

A/N: _**TRIGGER WARNING **_for mentions of suicidal thoughts and actions and **EXPLICIT **sexual assault.

Hey guys. Please once again, major trigger warning on this story. Please do not read if you know it will trigger you; trust your instincts!

I am also really happy because I am steady updating for you guys it seems. Not super steady, but enough that I am proud of myself. I hope to continue on this path of serving my lovely readers with bounty at least once every two weeks and hopefully more than that. I am feeling really creative even when I don't know where to take a portion of the story. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing this. Once again, trust yourself if you know this will be too much. You can even PM me for a brief, non-explicit summary of what occurred in the portion you didn't read. -boots

Disclaimer: I don't own Madam Secretary.

…

When Alison was born, Stevie was 2 years old, almost 3. She didn't remember Alison going to the hospital or holding her little sister for the first time. Of course, there were pictures of Stevie and a tiny, preemie Alison- and also pictures of pudgy-faced Stevie McCord, first and only child of her two adoring parents, young and experiencing motherhood and fatherhood for the very first time- but Stevie doesn't remember that. She has no recollection of moving around without Alison brushing against her side, and without the pictures it would be even harder to imagine.

Alison, though, can't imagine it at all. She cannot fathom a moment in her life without Stevie existing, without her being there, arguing with their parents and sneaking her orange-flavored gum. But then again, for her there has never been a moment like that to imagine. She doesn't have any pictures because Stevie has been there for as long as Alison has existed.

But then, on a tense evening, Jason screamed and everything Alison thought was true punched at her chest in fury. Stevie had tried to kill herself. She had been violated and hurt and was in a vulnerable mental space, distraught and confused.

They say that the majority of those who survived jumping off a bridge, confessed to regretting it, and feeling as if all their problems weren't that big to only be solved by dying by the time that their feet had left the metal. Alison figured Stevie felt that way. After all, if she died, it would be 19 years of nothing.

"What do you mean by nothing?" Dr. Sherman broke into Alison's daze, raising a blush to her cheeks when she realized where she was and how long she had been talking.

"...I don't know. Like it's just that her death would be like finishing everything…"

"Don't you think the time Stevie has spent with you in these 19 years mean anything on their own?"

"When my roommate tried to kill herself and I came back home, Stevie sat with me and ate ice cream and pigged out on vegan brownies with me. She said it was okay to be angry and that it wasn't my fault or Julie's fault. That sometimes your mind does stuff to you, but with the help Julie was going to get, she would be better soon." Alison pulled one of the soft couch pillows onto her lap, pulling at the tassels. "But she gave up. She was willing to end all 19 years of us because she didn't want to get help."

"Stevie is 19?"

Alison nodded, eyes still on the pillow.

"Well then she has two years of her life that she spent without you."

Alison pursed her lips. A moment passed. "Arguably a lot more. She did go off to college and to all those stupid high school parties without me."

"So, you can live without her?"

Alison didn't reply. She yanked the thread out of one of the tassels.

"How did you feel when Stevie confessed that she had wanted to die that night?"

Alison dug her nails into the perfectly neat factory-made rows of knitted fabric.

"Were you surprised? Scared? Upset? How did you feel?"

"Terrified."

"Why?"

"Because she said it like it was what she wanted. Like that was her choice. And we were just obstacles." Alison looked up at Dr. Sherman. "Stevie isn't an obstacle to me. She's my sister."

* * *

"Stephanie, or would you rather be called Stevie?"

"Stevie is fine."

"Where would you like to start?"

"I don't care."

"How about last night?"

"How about not?"

Dr. Sherman ran a long boney finger down a page of notes. She looked back at Stevie. "Would you be willing to talk about the attack that began all of this?"

The attack didn't begin this. His father did. With his sense of entitlement and inability to actually raise his fucking child right. I mean you can lead a country, but you can't lead your singular son down the right path. And Congress isn't even checking your every move there so one would think it would be easy enough.

"Stevie?"

"Yeah, sure."

"What were you doing in the moments leading up?"

"We were having a drink." I was having a drink. He said he wasn't supposed to in the program. I told him it was fine, that I didn't have to drink either. But he insisted, said he'd brought it just for me.

"Alcohol?"

Stevie nodded. "It was a fancy type of whiskey that his father kept in his office." Shall I mention his father keeps it in the third drawer on the right of his desk inside the Oval Office.

"Were you celebrating something?"

"Sort of. He had just found out that I was engaged, and so he invited me to his hotel room for a celebration party." And he had just gotten out of rehab four days ago, somehow having convinced them all that he was clean and ready for sobriety.

"What happened next?"

"He was kind of quiet. And so-" Stevie cut herself off. "You don't tell this to my parents, right? Because I don't want them to…" know that it was him. They would be horrified.

"I understand. No, I will not disclose anything you say here unless I believe that you are going to cause harm to yourself or someone else."

Stevie stared at the potted plant that sat cozy on the side table by Dr. Sherman. "We grew up together. Him and me. We went to the same schools for a few years here and there. His parents are friends of my parents. For a while, we would celebrate Thanksgiving together. One big happy extended family." Except for the part in which the boy I truly thought would one day be my husband rapes me, repeatedly.

"Are your families still that close?"

"A bit. I don't necessarily see them every day or even once a week. But they're there. The connection is there. I know I could call Uncle… Pat anytime or Aunt…"

"You can call them by their real names or fake ones, or just not say names. Either way, I won't tell anyone."

Stevie stared at her. Doctor Sherman looked like she was Mom's age, but she wore grandma glasses. "I know I could call them anytime and they would help me."

"Is there any chance of seeing him, with or without other family members present?"

Stevie could feel her heartbeat thumping in her ear canal. "It doesn't matter, I already have."

Dr. Sherman looked barely startled before she wiped the surprise from her features. "Did he say anything?"

"Lots. In fact, he was a lot chattier this time around."

"He didn't speak much at the hotel?"

"He did, but it was mostly short sentences and questions or directions."

"Directions?"

"Turn around. Take off your clothes. Hurry up. Stop crying… Say my name."

"Let's go back to when you were drinking. You said he was quiet."

"He isn't the quietest person in the world. He likes to talk to people. To have fun conversations. He didn't seem like he was having fun. So, I asked him what was wrong, and he said that he needed me. That it wasn't fair that I was getting married. That marriage was this dredge that would suck the joy and happiness out of me and force me into this role." Stevie's voice got softer and softer. "He said that I was a precious person that he wouldn't allow to go to waste. That I was his gingy and he needed me. That he couldn't think straight ever since they put him in rehab this last time. That all he could think of was me. That I had forgotten him, and that he was better than Jareth, and that he was going to show me that."

The room was still and the coffee table in front of her was shiny and the glass polished to perfection.

"Then he kissed me. I told him that I couldn't. I was engaged. I loved the man I was going to marry. He asked me if I loved him." Stevie closed her eyes. "I said yes."

A cloud moved in front of the sun, moving the room into a haze of gray. The room was silent with the slight rush of the white noise machine and the creak and squeak of their shoes and clothes and furniture being the only thing breaking it enough to make it peaceful almost. The cloud moved past the sun, letting back in the shine of sunlight illuminating thousands of dust particles that lingered in the office's air.

"He got on top of me." Stevie opened her eyes, breathing in and out roughly. "He put his hands under my shirt. I tried to get out from beneath him and we fell off the sofa. He started laughing and he got up and kicked the table away and on its back. Then he unbuttoned his jeans. He… unbuttoned his jeans. And then he made me get on my knees…" Stevie stood up suddenly.

"We have time. If you want, we can come back to this later?"

"No, no. I need to tell someone. I need this done with. I can't take it. I can't take this. It's so stupid. I mean I've had sex with him before. Fantastic, hot sex." She cried out, half yelling and half angrily crying. "I lost my virginity to him in high school. He wasn't just the first man I ever fell in love with- he was my best friend!" Stevie kicked the side of the sofa. It let out a tiny groan as the side paneling was pushed back and then adjusted back into place.

"You want to know how he could rape you?"

"Yes!" She sighed. "No… I don't know. I just want this to stop."

"Would you like to finish telling what happened?"

Say yes. Finish it. It has to be said.

"No." Stevie ran a hand through cold, wiry hair. "I don't know. Maybe next time."

"Okay." Dr. Sherman nodded. "Why don't I schedule you in for tomorrow at 2?"

"Maybe Thursday would be better?"

"Are you sure you want to wait that long?"

I need to get away from here.

"Yes, I'm sure." Staying here will make me spill the beans. Mom cannot afford that.

"Okay, Thursday it is." Dr. Sherman rose up, opening the door for Stevie. As the girl went to walk out, she handed her a smooth light brown business card. "Call me anytime, day or night."

Stevie nodded, smiling tightly to the doctor before rushing out of the office. She needed a drink.

* * *

The bar was closed! Like come on! Who the hell even celebrates Labor Day anymore?! Stevie paced in front of the locked doors. The bar was in a near empty strip mall, parking lot barren except for two vans and three sedans scattered along, mostly in front of a small pharmacy. Stevie resisted the urge to kick the locked doors, instead pulling out her phone and googling 'bars nearby' as quickly as she could, which was difficult with her trembling fingers. She couldn't stop thinking about what she should have told Dr. Sherman. It had been so easy to say it before to Kat; granted even then she hadn't said it all. But she hadn't even told the whole story aloud yet. She couldn't force it out of her mouth. Her brain would turn cold and clammy and that feeling would activate some instinctual fear in her gut. Stevie needed a drink.

"You lookin for some liquor?"

Stevie's heart froze in her chest. She knew that fake southern accent; she had laughed at it for years. She had smothered it with kisses, playfully begging him to stop, and watching him turn it into an equally dreadful English accent. How had he found her?

"You dropped this." A sleek, barely tanned hand held out Dr. Sherman's business card.

"Harrison." Stevie backed up.

"Oh no you don't!" The First Son let out a soft laugh, grabbing her arm and pulling her into him.

Stevie opened her mouth to scream but was stopped by a quick hand gripping the side of her head and slamming it into her nearby car hood. The sudden pain engulfed the right side of her face, setting off a slight ringing in that ear.

Harrison took a fistful of blonde hair and dragged her towards a dreary looking old Pontiac Montana; the kind Stevie had first learned to drive in and had oohed and aahed over every day as she drove to school in 11th grade. He had put all the seats down in the back and as soon as he slid open the side door, he threw her into the van.

Stevie's head was beating like a drum. She scrambled towards the front of the van, but just as Harrison climbed in and slid the door behind him shut, he grabbed her leg and dragged her back to him. He climbed on top of her, a sudden rage overtaking him.

"I saw you at Dr. Sherman's. You know I see her partner, Dr. Kevlar, for my therapy! What are you playing at Stevie?" He grabbed her face and forced her to look at him. "Have you told anyone?"

"No! No, I haven't."

Harrison spit in her face. "You fucking liar. You told. I can tell; I know you." He laughed incredulously, still on top of her. "You fucking slut."

A seat hook was digging into her ribs.

Harrison gripped her wrists, staring her in the eyes. A pointy knee pushed apart her legs before slamming itself between them. The pain erupted but the sweaty hand now covering her mouth smothered her groan. He kneed her again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Vomit rose in the back of Stevie's throat and her head felt foggy.

"You want to be fucking raped huh? Telling everybody around here that I'm this piece of shit junkie that goes around raping people!" His face was red. "I am trying to better myself, woman!" He rose up only to punch her hard in the face. Breathing heavy, he punched her again.

Stevie groaned, nose bloody and head clouded. He had removed his hand from her mouth and was now fumbling with his zipper. Her zipper. Her panties. He was in her. Grunting. The blood in her nose was suffocating, and he noticed her trying to breathe through her mouth. With a smirk, he pressed his lips to hers, thrusting faster and moaning as she struggled for air, only removing his lips to thrust harder. The car rocked back and forth in the empty parking lot. With a long groan he came inside her, one hand tight on her neck still making her squirm and struggle for air.

Stevie closed her eyes when he finally let go of her neck, waiting as he zipped himself up.

"... I can't believe you." His voice was sad. "This could ruin my life. Do you know how hard it is to stay sober when I know you're spreading lies about me?"

Stevie's voice came out congested and weak. "But you're not sober, are you?"

Harrison stared at her. "Whatever. At least I'm trying. You're a dropout and a failure. You don't even have a real job. You wait on old guys hand and foot, for free. I mean, you do everything for Russell. I bet you even suck off those congressmen for him whenever he needs you to. Pretty girl like you is really only good for one thing," he kicked her knees apart, her ankles still bound by the jeans that he had pulled down, "-spreading those legs."

Stevie stared at the ceiling of the car.

Harrison slid the van door quickly after getting out. He quickly checked to see if anyone was watching and then ducked into the driver's seat, starting the engine.

"What are you doing?" Stevie's voice was hoarse and panicked.

"Doing what you used to do: care about me." He replied, pulling out of the parking lot and exiting the strip mall. It was time for some clean up.

...


	12. Chapter 12

I won't be updating this story for a bit.

I enjoyed writing this story. But as those of you who have read my other works- mostly for Criminal Minds- you know I have a bad habit of not finishing things. I also believe that this story could be better- that I began this not on the firmest of plot and development footing, and that this story is good but not as good as it could be. I want to give you guys something good and substantial to read and I want to be proud of it when I publish it. So, hopefully, I will publish this story once again… at least I intend to. But I want to improve upon it and complete at least most of it before I publish it again. For now, I will mostly be giving you guys one-shots, and one day hopefully this entire story revamped.

Until then,

boots


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